She hated fall.
She said it went back to when she was in first grade and her parents sent her to boarding school.
Imagine that--boarding school in the first grade.
As the fall season would began its descent, Gena would fall into a funk.
She would become depressed.
So it is somehow fitting that it was Labor Day weekend, 2 years ago that she began her final descent from us.
She complained of chest pains and Tom once again took her the hospital.
He called to let us know while we attending the wake of a good friend of ours.
After spending the weekend in a hospital here in the Happy Valley,
she was once again sent to a hospital in Boston.
We were used to seeing her in hospitals in Boston.
Since I had met her she had many stays in Boston Hospitals.
There her heart surgeries, mini strokes, laser surgeries on her eyes and of course,
the biggest stay of all....
the kidney transplant.
This time the trip was different.
There weren't any tricks to pull out of the bag.
No last minute miracle to try.
This time the word was spoken.
The word we didn't want to hear.
Hospice
That was her last trip to a Boston Hospital.
Instead of a new miracle, she began a new journey.
A journey that took her away from us.
A that taught us so much.
So as we reflect on Labor Day, and all the things we labor,
I reflect on Gena's labor of love of life.
How she fought for each moment of it and tried to live it to the fullest.
Gens, I miss you....
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